It was an odd feeling, knowing that he mattered that much to Potter, that losing him would make Harry vulnerable like that. He'd never been important to anyone before. Even his parents hadn't really wanted him around. He kept trying to guard his heart from the inevitable pain of rejection by telling himself that what he had with Potter was simply a convenient sexual arrangement that would disappear as soon as Harry found a more comely companion.
Only, everything Harry did refuted that cynical appraisal. Casual paramours didn't keep you company when you were vomiting your guts up. They didn't spend the night cuddling you when the dunderheads left you with a splitting headache that even the strongest potion couldn't cure. They didn't help you prepare noxious potions so that they could spend time with you when they could be relaxing elsewhere. Had it merely been a matter of convenient sexual gratification, Potter would never have involved him so deeply in his personal life. Were they to part now, extricating himself at the end of the affair would be more like an amputation than a break up. Severus mightn't have the social graces of a hermit crab, but even an insecure fool like himself could see that it wasn't simply about sex with Potter.
What it was about stunned him.
He was nearly fifty. He'd thought himself beyond such possibilities, believed that all the pages had been written in the book that was his life. But here he was, with Harry, writing new chapters every night, dealing as best he could with the unique situation.
Last night's instalment was the strangest by far. Mage fire and dark curses. To look at Harry sleeping there innocent as a child, no one would suspect him of either.
Normally, he'd let Potter sleep in on the weekends. This morning Severus felt an overwhelming need to reaffirm what was between them, to show himself that, despite the mage fire, this was still his Harry.
His Harry. It was dangerous, but he was beginning to think about Potter that way. Potter had said that lovers had certain rights. Maybe that was one of them. And if it weren't . . . Well, there was nothing for it. There'd be no stopping now. Whatever would happen, would happen. He'd just have to sort out the pieces where they landed when their relationship ran its course, whatever that course might be. There were no givens here. He didn't know where they stood, or where they were headed. All he knew was that he was in it for the duration, however long that lasted.
He reached out to touch the living warmth of the man, laying his palm on Harry's smooth chest. Even now, after all this time, it was still difficult for him to initiate contact. Potter was constantly encouraging him to reach out, but it wasn't his way to chance rejection. Even though he knew Harry welcomed his touch, he still had to force himself to make the first move. But this morning, he needed it.
Harry's soft, hairless skin was reassuringly familiar. Severus had stroked, licked, and nibbled every inch of this lithe body.
When they'd first started sleeping together, every chance bump in the night had woken them, as neither of them had been accustomed to sleeping with someone the night through. But Harry was used to him now and slept through the gentle caress Severus gave his chest.
Emboldened, Severus lowered his head and licked the nearest nipple. The pink bud tightened into a pert nub under his tongue. He played with it for a while, and then moved to give its companion similar treatment. When he had both erect and needy, he glanced up at Harry's face.
Still asleep.
His gaze swept downwards to where Harry's cock lay in its thick nest of dark curls. It, at least, was beginning to waken and harden to a pleasing size.
Recalling just where that cock had been a few hours ago, Severus whispered a cleansing charm. That done, he lowered his mouth to Harry's chest, and nibbled his way down the taut stomach in the almost biting kisses that Harry preferred there.
His fingers dipped down to stroke between Harry's athletic thighs. The man might be compact, but he was exquisitely formed, with long, developed muscles all over. Not bulky, but well shaped, just perfect.
The hairy thighs parted at his touch, and Harry released a sleepy sigh. Severus looked up, but Harry was still asleep, despite his hardening penis. So Severus stroked, brushing from the crease where leg met hip straight down to Harry's knee.
Inundated by his lover's clean scent, Severus guided that half-erect shaft into his mouth. The salty flavour was as familiar as Harry's scent and touch now. The almost narcotic effect it had on him, however, was always shocking. As he lapped the beads of moisture off that thick cock, the taste rocked through him like a potent aphrodisiac, turning him on hard and fast. And still Potter slept on.
Within moments, Harry was fully erect. Severus deep throated the impressive penis, shivering at its inherent power. Potter was so strong, so masculine. Just feeling that organ pulse and throb under his tongue as it grew in size sent a quiver of excitement through him, made him tremble for things that he should have had his full of by now. But this need was never quenched. Potter could ride him all night, and he'd still hunger for more the instant he saw that cock spring to life.
When Harry was as big as he'd get, Severus lifted his head and stared hopefully up at Potter's face. Behind his closed lids, Harry's eyes were moving, obviously deep in a dream.
Severus wanted more, but . . . was it really appropriate to progress to that act without Harry's conscious consent?
Severus stared down his morals. Being Slytherin, he let them go without too much regret. It wasn't as though he were contemplating turning the tables and taking Harry while he slept; that would be unconscionable. But this? Harry fucked him every night, so he doubted that there would be any true protest.
Still, it felt strange staring down at that sleeping face as he straddled Potter and guided that pulsing cock where he wanted it. He was still slick and loose from last night's love play. Harry's penis, glistening with his saliva, slid into him with only slight discomfort as he pushed himself down.
Even asleep, Harry was a good lover. His cock seemed to target his prostate as though under a homing spell as Harry filled him.
Severus groaned at the pleasure that exploded through him, then rocked himself to ensure a repeat. He didn't even have to touch himself. He was full to bursting just from touching Harry and feeling his cock enter him.
Harry awoke with a gasp, staring up at him in confused arousal. "Severus?"
"Good . . . morn . . . ing . . . ." Severus grunted, pushing down so that the head of Harry's cock connected with that perfect spot again.
Harry's hands rose to brace his hips, guiding his movements. After a moment, Harry's right hand left its station to curl around Severus' hungry cock, squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. It was so good, so right.
They fell into the rhythm that was becoming the heartbeat of Severus' life. Potter began to thrust up at him, and the world spun under the sensations that swirled through him. Even without loosing his magic on him, Harry could destroy him, and did.
Slamming down as hard as he could, Severus met each of Potter's upward strokes. They were so perfect together, so in tune.
They grunted and groaned their way to sweaty completion. It was faster than the times Harry employed his magic, but no less sweet for it.
Severus came with a resounding moan, spraying Harry's flat stomach and defined ribs with his seed. As the world blinked in and out around him, he felt Harry still inside him and convulse with climax.
Panting for breath, Severus collapsed forward onto Harry's shoulder. His nose squashed into the soft skin there.
Potter slipped out of him. Harry's hands slid up his back to clutch him tight as Harry whispered in his sleep husky voice. "God, what a way to say good morning."
"I firmly believe it should replace the usual banal greetings," Severus said.
Harry chuckled, rubbed his back, and said, "Yes, I can just see you using your new morning greeting on Flitwick, and Hagrid, and -"
"One more word, and I shall be sick all over you," Severus warned.
"You wake me up like that every morning, and you can do anything you want all over me," Potter answered.
"That's disgusting," Severus said, wrinkling his nose and turning to lick the drying semen off Potter's chest.
Harry carded his fingers through Severus' unwashed hair as Severus lapped away. Sighing, Harry arched under his ministrations, his head falling back on the pillow.
To his confusion, Severus felt the previously rubbery, relaxed body beneath him suddenly freeze up. "What is it?"
"I could have killed you last night."
Severus followed the troubled green gaze to the remains of his charred wardrobe.
"How can you touch me – still want to be with me after seeing that? Everyone else . . . treats me like a monster after one of those dreams," Harry said, his fingers balling painfully in Severus' hair.
Severus raised his head to meet Harry's gaze, wincing as he left a few strands in Harry's hands. Harry loosened his grip immediately.
"I would like to talk to you about those dreams," Severus said softly. Reading the worry in Harry's face, and feeling it tense the body cushioning him, he quickly said, "I'm not so faint-hearted as that. I, too, know what it is to be an object of fear and disgust."
Potter hissed in a sharp breath. "Aren't you . . . even the least bit afraid of me?"
Framing that worried face with his discoloured fingers, Severus drew Harry into a kiss. When they parted, he softly asked, "You think I should fear you because of last night?"
Potter nodded.
"What of all the other nights before it?"
"What?" Harry asked.
"You hold my life in your hands every night when your power sweeps through me. You could kill me with a thought or a single moment of inattention, and yet I permit it. More than that, I welcome it. Why do you think that is?" Severus questioned.
Potter flushed. "The sex is fantastic."
"The sex was fantastic with Lucius Malfoy as well, but I would never have permitted him the liberties I allow you. You ask if I fear you. I fear you as any man my age fears a lover more than twenty years his junior, but I don't worry for my life or safety with you, merely my . . . emotional integrity. I know you, Harry Potter, better than you know yourself. Even trapped in a nightmare, you wouldn't harm me."
He heard Harry gulp, and then those strong hands pulled him back down against Harry's chest to hold him tight.
"You had sex with Lucius Malfoy?" Harry asked at last.
Severus sighed. Of all the things he expected Harry to say, that was the last on the list. "I had sex with many men in my misspent youth."
"But Lucius Malfoy?" Harry sounded like he'd confessed to having intercourse with one of Hagrid's pets.
Severus tried to find a way to explain that Lucius hadn't always been the fiend Harry had known, but he knew nothing that would exonerate Malfoy in Potter's eyes. Certainly, the truth would only further damn Lucius. So, Severus settled on a vague, "I was young and inexperienced at the time. Lucius was quite dashing in school, and . . . any kindness went a long way with me back then."
He'd hoped that would end the subject, but Harry persisted with, "Was he your first?"
Harry sounded curious. Severus supposed it was only natural. They really knew next to nothing about each other's romantic history.
Severus nodded against Harry's chest. The question he dreaded was, of course, the next thing out of Harry's mouth. "Malfoy was a few years older than you. You must have been quite young if you were together in school. How old were you?"
As an adult looking back on the incident, Severus could see how the seduction had been coldly planned. Malfoy tutoring him in Transfigurations alone all afternoon in the fourth year dorm. Severus had been unnerved just being in the older boys' bedroom. Upper grade Slytherins rarely paid any attention to the first years, but Lucius had stepped in from the start and prevented the other Slytherins from continuing the taunting that that bastard Black had started on their very first day of school. Lucius was always . . . kind to his younger cousin, and Severus had never known such treatment.
Even now, Severus could remember Malfoy catching him staring that fateful afternoon, calling him on it, and asking him why, and himself blurting out the truth, that he'd never seen anyone so handsome. That moment when Lucius leaned over to kiss him was engraved forever in his memory, as was the jolt his barely awakened sexuality had given when Lucius' warm hand touched him through his trousers and squeezed. With gentle kisses and caresses, Lucius had peeled away his clothes, spread his legs and . . . .
No Gryffindor could understand that. Severus couldn't imagine telling Harry that he'd spent the next four years bending over for Lucius, and loving every minute of it. As an adult, Severus knew what had been done to him. Black had called him Malfoy's lapdog, with good reason. By simply being kind, Lucius had procured himself a willing catamite. Harry Potter would never understand that.
Calling on every bit of his acting abilities, Severus lightly responded, "I was far too young and foolish, as most of us are our first time. How old were you?"
Apparently, his evasion worked. Harry gave a self-deprecating chuckle, "Positively ancient. I was nearly seventeen. I expect you were younger than that."
"Somewhat." It was, after all, the truth.
"About what you said before about . . . fearing me, I, er, would like to tell you that you don't have to . . . worry about your emotional integrity with me. But I guess I'd just be wasting my breath, wouldn't I?" Harry asked in a soft tone.
Now it was Severus' turn to tense. "Doubtless."
Harry's hands tightened on his back almost painfully, and then he asked, "Would it matter if I said I loved you? Because I do, whether you want to hear it or not. I don't expect you to say anything back."
Severus' very breathing seemed to still. Harry loved him. He'd said it before at the height of passion, but never when they were simply talking like this.
